pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
by AmazingGrace36
Summary: Fem!Bilbo Baggins leaves the Shire with the company of Thorin Oakenshield in hopes that she can leave a traumatic incident behind. But the trauma follows her in what is, quite possibly, the worst way imaginable. Please note: Rape/non-con and abortion themes.
1. safety does not exist

Hello, readers! Please pay attention to the warnings; this story will get seriously unpleasant. Also, all chapters are unbeta'd and my auto-correct is not yet Hobbit-friendly, so my apologies for any mistakes. If you spot some, don't hesitate to point them out to me.

Warnings: Non-explicit rape/non-con and, in later chapters, suicide and abortion themes

In other news, the title for this comes from one of my favorite poems, Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden

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><p>Bilbo Baggins nudged the door closed behind her and took another puff from her pipe.<p>

An adventure, the wizard had said. An adventure! Gandalf might have been a dear friend to his mother but Bilbo was certain he was barmy. To come round, asking a hobbit to join him on a trek across Middle-Earth! Definitely Barmy.

Perhaps it was her Took side, but Bilbo found she was a bit intrigued by the idea of an adventure. She wished she had asked the wizard where his adventure would take him, what it would entail. Not that she would join him! Of course not. She was simply... curious.

Bilbo shook her head. "The world outside the Shire is a dangerous place, Bilbo Baggins. You'd best put all ideas of adventures out of your mind."

Nodding to herself, Bilbo set out for her kitchen and, more specifically, her tea pot. But a thought occurred to her, making her pause.

She had come to the startling realization very recently that even the Shire itself was a dangerous place. Staying in the Shire would not keep her safe. Perhaps it was time to discard the notion of safety. Bilbo was beginning to believe there was no such thing.

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><p>When a hulking and heavily armed dwarf pushed his way into her home, Bilbo's heart stuttered to a stop in her chest. This was familiar. This had happened before.<p>

"No," she breathed as the dwarf shoved his heavy and rather filthy coat into her arms.

"Which way is it, laddie?"

Bilbo barely heard his question over the frantic pounding of her heart.

The dwarf was staring at her now, looking almost... concerned? Bilbo realized belatedly that she was shaking her head and breathing harshly.

She forced herself to stand tall, dropping the dwarf's coat as she reached for the kitchen knife she had started leaving on the entryway table.

"Get out," she ordered. "Get out! GET OUT!"

The dwarf looked rather shocked at her shouts. When his eyes fell to the knife gripped in her shaking hand, he held his hands up in a sign of surrender. But still he did not leave.

"GET OUT!" Bilbo shouted. "Get out or I swear, I will gut you."

The threat was a weak one when aimed at a warrior dwarf with battle axes easily in reach and scars that spoke of years of experience. But the dwarf was backing up, one hand now reaching for the door.

"Alright, lad," he was saying in a gruff voice. "Alright, I'm leavin'. Don't mean you no harm, but I'll leave if ye want me to."

"Out."

Nodding, the dwarf opened the door and, hands still raised in front of him in a non-threatening manner, backed out of her smial. As soon as he had crossed the threshold, Bilbo slammed the door shut. Her hands were shaking badly, so it took a moment before she managed to engage the lock.

But that was not enough. Still clutching the kitchen knife in her hand, Bilbo quickly maneuvered a large chest in front of the door. She doubted it would hold back the dwarf if he tried to get in again, but it might slow him down. As quickly as she could, Bilbo ran through her smial, checking that every door and window was securely locked.

Bilbo found herself standing in one of her pantries, breathing heavily. After pulling the door shut - and consequently immersing herself in darkness - Bilbo curled herself into a ball in the furthest corner from the door. There, she finally allowed the tears to fall.

Some while later - Bilbo was unsure how much time had passed - the adrenalin and fear coursing through Bilbo's veins began to abate. Awareness began to flood back in. She realized she couldn't stay curled up in her pantry forever and it was possible, she thought with tremendous hope, that the dwarf had changed his mind when he'd realized she wouldn't be an easy target.

It took immeasurable strength - strength that, just a month ago, she hadn't known she possessed - for Bilbo to pull herself from the floor. She wiped her cheeks clear of tears, stood tall, and approached the pantry door.

On silent hobbit feet, Bilbo crept back to her front room.

There were voices coming from beyond the door. Bilbo's white-knuckled grip on her knife tightened as she listened.

"... reason why we're all standing about in our burglar's garden?" a low voice was asking.

"Dwalin arrived first and terrified our host," a calm, steady voice replied.

"Wee thing came at 'im with a kitchen knife!" chuckled a third.

There was more laughter as numerous voices began to overlap one another. Bilbo tried her best to pick out individual voices - as far as she could tell, there were at least six or seven people in her garden.

"Master Dwarves!" boomed a familiar voice, causing all the others to quiet. The front gate creaked as it usually did when being opened, and footsteps drew closer. "Is there a problem here?"

"Gandalf," someone signed exasperatedly. Inside, Bilbo echoed the sentiment under her breath. Fear loosened its grip on her enough for her to roll her eyes.

"Are you sure you've the right burglar? Dwalin absolutely terrified the little thing."

"And what did Master Dwalin do to frighten Miss Baggins so badly?"

"Was his normal, glowering self, I suspect," one voice grumbled, followed by a round of laughs.

Then one voice rose above the laughter, exclaiming incredulously, "_Miss_ Baggins?! Our host is a _woman_?"

There was a brief silence before the cacophony of voices resumed, louder than before. Inside the smial, Bilbo's grip on her knife loosened at the unexpected revelation. _Lad_. He had called her _lad_. The dwarf hadn't even realized she was female. He hadn't come for that reason, but for another. One that Gandalf seemed to have a hand in.

Summoning up all of her courage, Bilbo set about moving the chest back to its proper place. It scraped loudly across the floor, causing the invaders in her garden to quiet again.

"Miss Baggins?" Gandalf called gently.

"Gandalf," she called in the most level and exasperated tone she could manage, "you and I will be having words."

With one final shove, the chest was returned to its place and Bilbo was free to open the door. Taking a deep breath, she undid the locks and cracked the door. Gandalf's wrinkled visage stared back at her.

He smiled at her, looking a touch sheepish. "I did not intend to scare you, dear. Perhaps I could explain?"

Bilbo considered for a minute putting down the knife, but decided against it. She tucked it into the folds of her trousers with one hand and opened wide the door with the other. "In the name of all that is green and good, Gandalf, you damn well better explain."

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><p>A short while later found Bilbo opening her front door once more, most of her earlier fear gone. Tension was still coiled up in her shoulders and held her spine as straight as a rod, but she wasn't afraid any longer.<p>

The dwarves - twelve of the thirteen she would be hosting for the evening, Gandalf had informed her - still lingered in her garden, puffing away on their pipes and speaking to each other in low tones. They stilled when she pulled the door open, except for the two closest to the door who looked quite young and were busy wrestling and crushing Bilbo's petunias. After a few moments of silence, they realized the rest of the dwarves were gazing up at their host expectantly and quickly leaped to their feet, straightening out their expressions to give off an air of seriousness and attentiveness.

Bilbo cleared her throat and, heeding Gandalf's advice, bowed. "I am Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, at your service. I must express my apologies for my earlier behavior. I was not expecting visitors. But unexpected or no, you are most certainly not unwelcome. Please, come in. Welcome to my home."

A dwarf with white hair, a long white beard, and an air of wisdom stepped forward. He looked quite serious, but not displeased. "The company of Thorn Oakenshield, at yours and your family's, Miss Baggins."

Almost as one, the dwarves bowed low to her.

"We offer our most sincere apologies for our actions, especially those of my brother." Here, Bilbo noticed that the first dwarf she'd met, the one who'd frightened her so badly, went bright red and glared uncomfortably at the ground. "Your kindness is more than we deserve."

It was Bilbo's turn to flush red. "Nonsense," she informed the dwarf. "Please, come in, all of you. What kind of host leaves her guests to sit on the front stoop? My father certainly wouldn't have approved. Poor host, indeed."

One by one, the dwarves filed into her home, introducing themselves as they passed. The one called Bofur swept his hat off his head in a rather dramatic gesture that nearly had her giggling. Lastly, excepting the dwarf who had spoken earlier, the large tattooed dwarf stepped awkwardly onto her front step. His brother stood close by, a serious and expectant look leveled at the muscled dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwain.

"'m sorry for barging into your home without invitation, Mistress Hobbit."

The dwarf did look rather contrite and seemed serious enough, so Bilbo just nodded and gestured for him to enter her home.

"Balin, at your service," the white-haired dwarf said after his brother escaped his stern gaze. "You are most generous, Miss Baggins."

When all the dwarves had disappeared inside her home, Bilbo lingered outside of it. She took a deep breath to steady herself. She was sure she had a long night ahead of her.


	2. the invitation

_I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,  
><em>_if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. _

- The Invitation by Oriah

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><p>Bilbo quickly realized that she was housing twelve very hungry dwarves, though none of them said anything. They had all gathered in her kitchen - spacious though it was, there was barely enough room to move at all - and a few of the dwarves were craning their necks, seemingly looking for food. A couple of stomachs growled quite loudly.<p>

"I'm sure you're all quite hungry," Bilbo said, straining to speak loud enough to be heard over the roar of voices. "I feel a terrible host for asking this, but if one of you would be willing to aid me, I'm sure I could have a meal ready within the hour."

To Bilbo's surprise, all of the dwarves offered to help and were quite enthusiastic about doing so. After Bilbo assured them that everything in her kitchen and pantries were at their disposal, they set about creating a veritable feast. The little hobbit host ended up cooking nearly nothing at all. The dwarves worked as a cohesive whole with team work and some acrobatics that had Bilbo gaping.

After watching the dwarves open-mouthed for a few embarrassingly long moments, she headed for her main pantry. She wondered if there would be anything left on the shelves at all. The moment she stepped into the tiny space, her steps faltered. Just an hour ago, she had been cowering in here, sobbing and shaking from the fear. Bilbo sighed. Would things ever return to normal?

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><p>As the feasting winded down, a knock came at the door. Every dwarf in the room went still and quite.<p>

Taking his pipe out of his mouth, Gandalf announced ominously - rather unnecessary, Bilbo thought - "He's here."

Gandalf rose from his dark corner and moved toward the entryway. He reached for the door but Bilbo pushed him aside, muttering about her poor hosting skills and good gracious, her father would be horrified at the way she'd handled her guests.

She swung the door open and took a small step back. The figure in her doorway was tall and muscled with striking blue eyes. It was strange, the way he held himself. It was confident and proud and serious. Bilbo found herself standing up straighter and pulling back her shoulders.

There was a pause as she and the dwarf observed each other, then Bilbo remembered her manners. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, at yours."

The dwarf, Thorin, stepped into her smial, looming over her. His eyes flickered to Gandalf before returning to his evaluation of Bilbo. The way he sneered as he looked her up and down made the hobbit sure that he found her lacking.

"So this is the hobbit..." He circled her, making her feel quite like prey. Like she was being cornered by a hungry wolf. Her hands began to shake.

"Ah, Thorin!" exclaimed a voice. Bilbo hadn't realized they'd gained an audience. "Could I have a word?"

Balin quickly ushered Thorin back out the door.

Behind her, one of the dwarves snickered. "I wish Balin would do that every time Uncle went to stick his foot in his mouth."

There was a thump and a quiet, hissed "ow!" The dwarves began to file back into the dining area, throwing curious looks at the door as they went.

* * *

><p>With a contract in hand and, finally, an explanation as to why there were thirteen dwarves and a wizard inside her home, Bilbo retreated to her study. Laceration? Incineration? The hobbit quickly sat down in her armchair before she felt any fainter. She sat for a moment, breathing deeply. Then she unfolded the rest of the long contract - was she really considering this? - and continued reading.<p>

When she'd finished, Bilbo considered her options, limited as they were. She could join these strangers on their dangerous and insane quest that would, in all likelihood, end in disfiguration or death, or she could... What? Stay in the Shire and hide in her pantry every time someone came calling? Stay in the Shire and lose sleep over the possibility of someone finding out what she had let happen to her? Stay and share her home with the constant, nagging thought of _what if he comes back? What if it happens again?_

Bilbo could not deny that she wanted out of the Shire, away from Bag End and from the memories that now tainted her childhood home. But would she find the same kind of danger with the dwarves?

She opened the door to her study, only mildly surprised to find Gandalf lurking in the hall.

"Gandalf," she begins hesitantly, unsure of how to phrase the question, "these dwarves... are they safe?"

The wizard raises a bushy eyebrow at her. "Safe?" he echoes. "Certainly not. They are fierce warriors, determined to reach their homeland and they will not hesitate to destroy anything that stands in their way... But that is not what you're asking, is it? My dear Bilbo, dwarves are unbelievably loyal to each other and to those they would call their allies. The rest of the world may not be safe from the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, my dear, but they would never harm you."

Bilbo considered this for a moment. If there was anyone she could trust, she supposed, it was Gandalf. So Bilbo figured she could probably be assured of the dwarves' character.

"Alright then," she said, nodding decisively. She returned to the study, signing her name with a flourish, and marched back out past Gandalf and into the main room. The dwarves grew quieter as she navigated her way through them. She came to a stop before Balin.

He took the contract from her outstretched hand with a grandfatherly smile. He looked the contract over before finally nodding. "Everything seems to be in order. Welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, Miss Baggins."

Around her, the dwarves cheered.

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><p>Later that evening, Bilbo paused in her hurried packing as a haunting melody filled every room in her smial. Something about the song of mourning the dwarves were singing resonated with Bilbo. She sat heavily on the edge of her bed, put her head in her hands, and cried.<p> 


	3. knowledge is power

Thank you all so much for your kind reviews. They are much appreciated!

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><p>The clashing of swords and the quiet grunts were what caught Bilbo's attention. She looked up from where she had been sitting quietly away from the rest of the company, distracting herself from the loneliness by mending a small tear in her traveling cloak.<p>

Fili and Kili were both grinning as they sparred, moving so quickly that Bilbo could hardly tell what was happening at all. They moved with a grace that was quite incredible and neither seemed to hesitate even for the barest of seconds.

A few other members of the company were gathered around them. Nori and Bifur were huddled together, speaking quietly. Bilbo hadn't grown close to any members of the company, but she had observed them enough to guess that the two dwarves were probably betting.

Quite suddenly, Kili landed on his back in the dirt with Fili's sword at his throat. After a moment, Fili sheathed his sword and reached out a hand to pull his brother up. He gave a proud exclamation in the dwarves' language, grin growing. Kili rolled his eyes but let himself be pulled to his feet.

Bilbo glanced back down at her cloak, brow furrowed as she thought. She had never fought before. Not with swords or fists or anything else but words. She tried not to think about the horrid consequences she had faced for not knowing how to defend herself just a few weeks ago.

Before she could change her mind, Bilbo rose to her feet and marched over to Fili and Kili. The other dwarves had already dispersed.

"Miss Boggins!" Kili exclaimed with a grin as she approached.

Bilbo smiled nervously back. Afraid she would lose her nerve if she tarried any longer, she blurted out, "I want to learn to fight."

The boys' grins turned mischievous, which only made Bilbo more nervous.

"You've come to the right dwarves!" exclaimed Fili.

"We'll start small," Kili decided, turning to his brother.

"Throwing knives?"

A nod. "And basic knifework. Hand to hand?"

"Good idea."

The two turned back to Bilbo, looking at her intently. In unison, they nodded decisively and Fili declared, "Let's get started."

That evening, Kili and Fili spent the last of the daylight teaching Bilbo proper stance and grip. Though their mischievous looks had made Bilbo wary, she found that the two dwarves were very serious and patient teachers. They were both hovering a little too closely for Bilbo's comfort, crowding her space, but they corrected and guided her so gently that she couldn't find it in herself to fault them for it.

When it grew too dark to continue, Bilbo tried to hand back to Fili the throwing knife he had lent her.

"Keep it," he said, pressing it back into her hand and curling her fingers around the hilt. "We were remiss in not giving you something before now."

The days passed at a leisurely pace. More and more often, the dwarves (especially Fili and Kili) would include her in conversations as they rode, and Bombur, Bifur, and Bofur invited her to join them for dinner in the evenings. As soon as the company halted for the evening, the two young dwarves would steal her away to train her. They quickly drew an audience and, Bilbo suspected, a betting pool. More often than not, the advice the other dwarves yelled at her distracted her more than it helped her.

One night, while Fili tried to teach Bilbo everything he knew about hand to hand combat, he and Kili began to bicker about one thing or another. Bilbo hadn't been listening, too distracted by Bifur and Bofur trying to demonstrate proper form. Then, suddenly, Bilbo found herself tackled to the ground by two scuffling dwarves. Kili was laying practically on top of her, focused on getting a firmer grip on Fili's hair. He didn't notice when Bilbo began to panic.

"GET OFF!" Bilbo screeched, trying her best to scramble away. Once free, she pulled herself immediately to her feet. She tried to hide the way her hands were shaking by dusting herself off.

"It's just a bit of dirt, Bilbo!" Kili laughed up at her.

"Hobbits," another of the dwarves sighed.

Glancing to the dwarves who were watching them from the edge of camp, Bilbo saw eyes rolling and fond, exasperated smiles. She forced herself to stand tall, nose in the air, in her best impression of Lobilia.

"Yes, well," she said haughtily, "Hobbit may enjoy working with the earth, but we prefer not to _bathe_ in it as you dwarves do."

Laughter rang out in the clearing.

Still shaken but relieved her panic had gone unnoticed, Bilbo quickly made her way back to the camp and pulled her spare shirt, needle, and thread from her pack to distract herself.

The needle quivered in her shaking hands and, for the life of her, Bilbo could not get the thread through the eye of the needle. When she finally grew overly frustrated by the unsuccessful attempts, she tossed it all to the ground and stood up with a huff.

"Bombur," she began, approaching the dwarf, "can I help with anything?"

The dwarf looked up from the stew he was stirring. The campfire cast light upon his face and Bilbo could see clearly as he began to frown and worry spread across his features. "Are you alright, Bilbo?"

"Of course!" Bilbo replied with a laugh she hoped didn't sound too forced. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Bombur looked doubtful, but let the issue drop. Soon enough, the hobbit was hunting about the surrounding landscape in search of some herbs to add to the stew.

When they sat down to eat that evening, Bombur discretely ladled a little extra into Bilbo's bowl and later, Bofur nudged her bedroll closer to the fire than where she usually slept. When she tried to protest, Bilbo was gently but firmly ignored. She murmured her thanks as the camp began to settle down for the night, pleased to find that the unease which had plagued her since the incident with Kili and Fili had faded away into nothing.


End file.
